


The world as it was / and is

by Kiraly



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Gen, Poetry, Pre-Canon, Prologue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 09:22:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14234196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiraly/pseuds/Kiraly
Summary: Berit Eide has seen the world change many times.





	The world as it was / and is

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tanist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tanist/gifts).



> A little bird told me that Róisín/Tanist was having a birthday, and I wanted to make a little gift to celebrate! I've always appreciated your thoughtful engagement with fanworks and other fans - it feels like I've learned so many new and interesting things from you over the past few years. It sounds like you've had quite the fascinating life so far, and thinking about that made me think of a comic character who I imagine had an equally fascinating one. We don't get to see much of Berit Eide in canon, but the little bit we do know makes me think she would have been instrumental in helping the people of Y0 Dalsnes survive.
> 
> Since you've always been so encouraging whenever I try my hand at poetry, I thought a poem would be an appropriate gift. So happy birthday Róisín! I hope you have a lovely day, and many more wonderful years. <3

I remember,  
sometimes,  
dirty-kneed childhood  
patched skirts let down  
and out  
and down again  
As I grew taller  
the world  
grew too.

I learned to knit  
by lamplight  
and to shoot  
straight  
and gather  
wild plants that are good to eat.  
These, my aunt said,  
are three things  
everyone should know.  
  
(I fed chickens  
let the wind play with my  
red hair, and sneaked  
the puppy in at night  
to sleep at the foot of my bed.)

School taught  
maths and reading and geography  
the world  
grew bigger -  
moving pictures  
in the living room  
a man on the moon.  
  
I left, always,  
a piece of myself  
running wild in the woods  
where tree shadows keep duty at bay  
and bills are nothing more  
than pale dead leaves.  
  
And the more things change  
the more - we tell ourselves  
they stay the same.  
But old bones know better.

One rain-soaked evening  
knitting by electric light  
a cat on my lap and  
my Puppy on the phone  
the world  
changed   
again.

So now I teach  
which plants can safely be eaten  
how to patch skirts and flesh wounds  
let hems down  
take waistbands in.  
My red-haired grandson  
I teach to shoot.  
These days  
it’s something  
everyone should know.


End file.
